The day Marie took her first steps, a letter arrived for Elodie. Aramis came to the garrison to deliver it himself. It was from Porthos, her name on the outside written in his big loopy hand. She sat down at the table outside with Marie in her lap, who gnawed on the handle of her rattle to soothe her budding gums. As Elodie cracked the stamped wax seal, her heart was thumping in her chest. This was to be the final verdict.
Dearest Elodie,
Trust me when I say that I truly had no idea there were any survivors from your husband's regiment. I am so unimaginably sorry that I got it wrong.
If you wish to return to him, I will understand. You have my blessing no matter what you decide. because I love you. And I love our daughter.
With that love, always,
Porthos
By the time she finished reading, her tears of joy were back. He called Marie our daughter, Elodie's and his. Elodie suddenly realised that Asher always called Marie his child. She felt guilty for thinking him Marie's 'real father'. Asher was as much a father as Porthos was a sparrow.
They may not be bound by blood, but Elodie and Porthos were bound by love and commitment. The only thing Asher was committed to was being a coward. He ran from war, he ran from his wife... Porthos was always meant to be Marie's father. He was there for her in her very first moments, she was named after his mother, she was his daughter. Elodie had no regrets whatsoever about not fighting for Asher.
That evening, with Marie asleep, Elodie took the sunflower from its hiding place in her chest. She had no hesitations, no misgivings when she tossed it into the fire. As she watched it burn, she placed a gentle kiss on her wedding ring. She couldn't wait for her husband to return.